Wrong
by Rasler-Heios-Nabradia
Summary: Alternate timeline: things take a different turn after Lord Rasler's death. Just as Ashe starts to cope, something horrible begins to happen in the palace at Rabanastre...M for gore and macabre nature of the story. R R Please.
1. Interment

When the young soldier gave Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca the news of her husband's death, she did not cry immediately. She thanked the soldier for the information and went to her father to make preparations for the funeral.

Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg had informed the king that there was nothing left of Nabradia, and its skeleton was occupied by Archadia. It was this information that made Raminas decide to inter Lord Rasler and his father in the tombs below the palace in Rabanastre.

Lady Ashe surveyed the carving of the sarcophagi for both men, having them carved from the finest slabs of white marble she could find. Reliefs depicting angels helping their souls to Heaven were carefully inscribed in the slab coverings. Rasler's father was immediately interred, but his son's final resting place stood open, waiting for its tenant.

Ashe did not cry until the funeral. The pallbearers carried Rasler in an open casket and placed him before Ashe and the king. Studying her husband, Ashe decided that, for someone who had never seen the prince while he was alive, the Mortician had done a good job. He had powdered Rasler's face so pale, then colored his cheeks and lips with pink rouge. He almost looks alive, she thought.

Then she knelt by his body and started to weep.

At the end, the procession moved to the tomb to place his body. Flowers were placed around him in the sarcophagus, and just before they covered him, Ashe stopped them for a moment.

She bent down and removed Rasler's glove, wincing at how cold and stiff his once strong hands felt. She slipped his wedding ring off and put it on her own hand, replaced his glove and refolded his too-stiff arms. Ashe stepped back and let them cover her prince in stone.

And that should have been it.

The king led her out of the tomb and it was closed.

Her father signed the peace treaty with Archadia, and Dalmasca maintained an illusion of sovereignty. However, the Archadian soldiers in Rabanastre did not go unnoticed by anyone.


	2. Visitation

Lady Ashe knew that she was a figurehead. She had no power, and for some reason, she was all right with that. She knew that the Archadian Empire was suspicious of all the rulers that they allowed to keep their sovereignty, but because her father was being outwardly obedient and enthusiastic, she knew that she was not a target.

However, she knew her father was in pain. His people were suffering, being abused by the Empire. Their rights were being stripped from them, and those that had been Nabradian citizens that fled to Dalmasca were forbidden from owning land in Dalmasca, and were punished twice as fiercely for minor crimes.

She had returned from a walk through the city with her guardians, Vossler Azelas and Basch fon Ronsenburg. She was thankful that her people didn't look upon her with scorn or distrust, but was quite distressed to note that most of them seemed full of pity for her, approaching her to offer condolences, when it was she who felt like the royal family owed an explanation.

She sat at dinner that night with her father, pushing food around on her plate and sighing audibly. After a few moments she excused herself, kissed her father on the cheek and decided that she wanted a bath before bed and walked upstairs briskly.

She wouldn't realize until weeks later that Rasler would have been dead for exactly thirty days on that night. She drew herself a bath, singing to herself in a loud, cheerful voice. She removed her street clothes and tossed them down the laundry chute to the cellar.

_Cellar shares a wall with the tomb, _she thought blandly, and turned to examine herself in the mirror.

She decided that she was happy with her naked figure, turning to the side to make sure her derriere and breasts were in proportion. They were. Mostly. She wished that her butt stuck out a bit more, but knew that would be remedied by the dresses she wore.

"Not so flat," she told her bum, and started to giggle.

She stepped into the ornate tub and sank down into the warm water, letting out a groan. Her legs hurt a bit from walking so much, and the water was happy to remind her as it went about soothing her aches and pains. She sank further and further down, until she was completely submerged.

She loved how water made her feel so weightless. She let her hands half-float in the water and opened her eyes to look up at the distorted ceiling. She exhaled, creating a few bubbles and squinted. When she turned her head just so, the light looked like

_Hand there is a hand holding me down cannot breathe!_

She swiped at the Hand, but there was nothing physically there. When she told herself this a few times, the weight lifted off her chest and she pushed herself up, gasping and coughing. She jumped out of the bathtub and pulled the plug, grabbed a towel and darted out of the bathroom.

She decided that she'd take a bath tomorrow.

She dried off and dressed in a nightgown that she was quite fond of and walked silently to her bed, pulling down the covers on one side. She left the other side folded up, as if waiting for someone, and crawled in, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Ashe was sure she would never sleep that night. The fear of that hand was still so fresh in her mind…but she dozed off in minutes.

That's not to say that she didn't have nightmares that night.

In the one that she would remember for years, she was sound asleep. The sound of someone yawning woke her, and she rolled over and smiled at her snoozing husband. She leaned over and kissed his forehead and he stirred, opening his eyes and smiling.

"I miss you," he said.

She furrowed her brow, confused. "What?"

But now Rasler didn't look so good. His skin was pale, tinted green with rot, and his eyes were dead and glazed. He continued to grin at her and there was blood in his teeth, in his mouth, down his chin, and he reached for her, and suddenly he was the hand holding her underwater, and his voice was distorted, choking, gurgling _miss you miss you cannot come back to you _and she struggled against his hand, splashing, trying to scream but she had no breath _cannot come back to you will bring you to me _and she screamed and it went black and she

Woke up.

She shrieked, and Vossler was knocking at her door. "Lady Ashe!" he called.

She coughed and sputtered a bit, and found herself in tears. She moved to the door and unlocked it, letting her guardian in and letting him hug her.

"Lady Ashe, are you all right?"

"Vossler," she said. "I saw Rasler tonight."

"'Twas only a dream, Lady Ashe," he muttered.

Basch was approaching now, his footsteps loud and heavy in the silent palace. "I heard a scream," he said.

"I saw Rasler," she said, but Vossler spoke louder, over her.

"Lady Ashe had a nightmare," he said firmly. "About her husband," he added, looking down at her. She had pulled away from him and was wringing her hands together, wondering how she was going to go back to sleep tonight.

Ashe looked to Basch who was staring to the side, his face contorted in pain. She felt guilty for a moment…Basch had adored Lord Rasler. He had served as the prince's protector and military advisor, and evidently somewhat blamed himself for Rasler's death.

The guilt soon passed. Rasler had been her husband, if only for a few weeks, and she had loved him dearly. "It was frightening," she said finally, "but I think I shall recover." She bowed her head slightly to the men and retreated back into her room, shutting the door with a snap.

She climbed back into bed, glancing suspiciously at the other side of it. It was still made up. No one had been there. No Rasler, no undead prince, no corpse groom.

She closed her eyes and, after a few moments, went back to sleep. This time, there were no ill dreams.


	3. Mortification

Earlier that night, before he heard Ashe scream, Basch had been in his room, reading a book. It hadn't been a very interesting book, but looking back on it, it had been a very convenient thing.

The book, "Royal Families," was revised every five years and covered all the royal families of Ivalice and the lands that they ruled. This one had been published just last year, and Basch had read the section on Lord Rasler Heios Nabradia more times than he could remember since the prince's death.

In the silence of the night, everything echoed in the palace halls. He heard the clock keeping the careful rhythm of passing time, the wind rattling the windows, but nothing unusual.

But the more Basch thought about it, the more he believed he _might _be hearing something unusual. He concentrated and thought he heard metal scraping stone, quietly, like something trying to go unnoticed.

He stood up and moved to his door and opened it quickly so it wouldn't creak, and he stuck his head into the hallway to listen. It grew a bit louder, and Basch pulled a pair of sandals on, deciding to explore.

Every so often, the scraping sounds would stop and Basch would wait until he heard it again. He followed the sound until it led him to the doors of the tomb, and he frowned.

One door was slightly ajar.

Against his better judgment, he gripped the door and forced it open a bit further, descending the steps into the tomb.

Something reeked.

He crinkled his nose in disgust and pulled one of the magic-burning torches from the wall and carried it down with him, breathing through his mouth to spare his nose from the growing odor. He was drawn to the prince's sarcophagus and he had to cover his mouth to keep from screaming or vomiting or both.

The sarcophagus was open, and it was the Lord's rotting corpse that was causing the horrible stink. The stone slab covering was leaning against the side of the open sarcophagus, and Basch leaned to drag it up, but he stopped.

He'd never know what exactly possessed him to lift (with difficulty-Rigor Mortis had set in) Rasler's foot, but he put it down almost immediately. There were fresh, unexplainable scrapes on the heels of his boots.

He heaved the marble slab back onto the sarcophagus and slid it, out of breath and red-faced, back into place.

Then, Ashe screamed.

He rushed up to her, but Vossler was thankfully already there. Basch couldn't comfort the princess when he, himself, was so deeply disturbed.

When the princess went back to bed, Basch found himself wandering the halls, not knowing exactly what he was worried about.

Grave robbers?

Nightmares?

Or did the good Lord Rasler visit his wife tonight?

"I do not believe in ghosts," he reminded himself firmly, but he wasn't sure if he really believed that.

He finally returned to his room, content that there were no corpses strolling the halls with him. He crawled into bed and relaxed onto the pillow for a few moments, until a horrifying thought occurred to him.

When Basch had recovered the sarcophagus, Lord Rasler's eyes had been wide open.


	4. Jealousy

_They were having a tiff over whether or not they should cut their son's hair. The little boy sat between them, amused—Mommy and Daddy played this game over his hair once a day, when Daddy tried to cut his hair in secret._

"_I'll not have my son looking so effeminate," Rasler snapped._

"_Oh, he's only two," Ashe said patiently, trying not to let him ruffle her feathers._

"_At least trim it!"_

"_But why?"_

_Rasler gave her a look and crossed his arms, glancing at the baby who was shaking his head "no" wildly, making his hair fly every which way. Rasler grinned and picked the boy up, kissing his cheek. "Fine. He can keep it until tomorrow."_

Ashe sniffed awake and the ecstasy faded. No Rasler. No blonde baby. She trudged out of bed and put her slippers on, opening the door and calling grumpily for a breakfast she would not be able to eat.

-

Larsa Ferrinas Solidor marched into his father's audience chamber and slammed his hands down on the desk. Emperor Gramis looked up from his discussion with Dr. Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, who was now looking at Larsa with mild interest. Larsa's brother, Vayne, had turned from peering out the window to see what the child could possibly want.

"What have you all done?" Larsa said, narrowing his lovely eyes into angry little slits.

"Well, that was vague," Dr. Cid said in the coo that he reserved specifically for speaking to the boy. "We've all done many things. You must be a bit more specific, or we could be here all night."

"I had a dream that Lord Rasler Heios Nabradia was dead," the boy said, color starting to rise to his cheeks. "Was no one going to tell me of this?"

Cid's eyebrows arched and he took a step back. "I believe it is not my place to discuss such things with you. That is your father's duty."

Vayne had also turned around, abandoning Gramis to the boy's wrath.

"I also dreamed," Larsa said, talking through gritted teeth, now, "that the country of Nabradia has been practically destroyed."

Gramis stared at his son, unsure of how he was going to explain it without infuriating him further. "Larsa," he started softly.

"Do not 'Larsa' me, Father," he said, his nose crinkling. "I want answers. I slept not two hours last night, tormented with dreams of the deceased prince, and I want to know _why._"

-

As Ashe poked sadly at her eggs, while Larsa scolded his father, a sky pirate calling himself Balthier and his partner, a Viera called Fran, were sitting in the audience hall of the palace at Rabanastre. They both seemed on edge, and Basch noted, relatively grumpy. He decided to see why they had been caught trying to sneak into the castle late last night.

Balthier rose to meet him as he strode across the room, inclining his head a bit. "I believe-"

"I owe you an explanation," Balthier said loftily. He straightened the cuffs of his shirt and looked Basch in the eyes. "I had no intention of harming anyone or stealing anything. I just happen to be aware that there was no way the king or princess would give audience to a pirate."

Basch looked at him dubiously and motioned for him to continue.

"I have information about the att…" his voice faltered for a moment and he cleared his throat. "The attack on Nabradia. I know…I know who is responsible for it."

"Do you have proof?"

"Solid proof? I'm afraid not. But if you would hear me out—and maybe let their majesties hear me speak, too—then you will find that I am not incorrect."

So, after a few hours of discussion (that is, Raminas agreeing to let Balthier speak, his advisors pitching fits, Ashe backing her father's decision and _her_ advisors pitching fits), they agreed to let Balthier speak.

-

They sat together, Raminas and Ashe, with Basch and Vossler standing on either side of them. Balthier and Fran sat before them, and Ashe decided that the look of intense concentration that the young sky pirate wore on his face was not one that his face was used to wearing, and that she hoped to see him in a more laid-back atmosphere.

"Your name?" Raminas said, looking up at the man.

"Balthier."

"Balthier…?"

"Just…Balthier."

"Very well. How much do you know about the attack on Nabradia, Balthier?"

"More than you, I assure you." This was not said in an unpleasant way, but it surprised the king and princess all the same. "Forgive me if I sounded rude, but…"

Balthier took a deep, ragged breath and started to tell what was easily the most disturbing tale that Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca had ever heard. A Judge Magister had used the Midlight Shard at Dr. Cidolfus' command, and flattened the capitol.

It was now no more than a Necrohol.

That the country had been destroyed by its own relic left Ashe in tears. She covered her mouth so that the men in the room didn't see her lip tremble. Thank the gods that Rasler hadn't seen that. It would have killed—

She started to laugh, and her father, bewildered, turn to put a hand on her shoulder. Her laughter quickly turned to tears and she began to weep for Nabudis.

-

Ashe had left the audience chamber to collect herself, and the meeting adjourned a few minutes later. Raminas announced that Balthier would be staying the evening, and that she was free to keep him company around the castle until dinner.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said, glancing sideways at her as they walked slowly up the hall.

"It could not have been helped," she said. "I suppose I would have found out eventually, and it was just…a bit much to bear, what with everything that has been going on around here lately."

Balthier, thinking that he knew what she meant, nodded a bit. She realized that he had no idea and averted her gaze when she felt another bout of hysterical laughter coming on.

"I am glad that you were able to tell us something," she said. "And I hope that this will persuade my father to take some action. Marquis Ondore-"

"Has been an advocate for a resistance now for sometime," Balthier finished. "He was the one who told me to come to you with the information. He's hoping to gain your father's support."

"Well, he has mine for all it's worth," Ashe said, suppressing the strange and powerful urge to just laugh and laugh and laugh, because everything seemed so hilarious right then. "I'll try to influence my father's decision in his favor."

The Viera spoke now, and she still seemed so uncomfortable. "There is strange air in this part of the castle."

Ashe thought about this as they walked, and she froze suddenly, her spine tingling as if something cold and slimy had just run down her back.

"We are…above the tomb," she said, trying to remain calm, but Fran saw through her.

"You are nervous."

"I cannot help it," she said, looking guilty. "I have had a few…strange experiences lately."

-

The king treated dinner like a party, and Balthier reckoned, just by looking at him and his daughter, that they were having more fun tonight than they likely had since long before the war.

Raminas retired early, having eaten three or four helpings and having far too much wine. He was tipsy, and Basch was laughing as he helped the old man back to his bedchambers.

Balthier and Fran left when the princess did, and the sky pirate poked about his room curiously, peering into the wardrobe that, to his dismay, continuously creaked open. He gave it a sharp slam and grinned victoriously when it stayed shut.

He hung his vest over one of the bedposts, tossed his belt to the floor, and stepped out of his shoes and fell happily into the bed. He was comfortable, and he finally decided to try to decipher the strange feeling of foreboding that he had felt all evening. He couldn't place it. He couldn't quite remember that it had started the moment he had entered the castle, and had grown with every passing minute. He wriggled under the blankets and clutched his pillow thoughtfully, giving into his drowsiness and falling asleep.

-

At some point after midnight, still hours before the sun would even consider rising, a cold breeze across his cheek woke the sky pirate from a particularly dreamless sleep. He sat up, grumpy, and peered around. The windows were shut tight, and there wasn't a crack in the walls, but the breeze was there, and he peered around, trying to locate its source.

_The wardrobe._

He frowned. "Did I not shut you?" he asked rhetorically. Of course he had. He hesitantly swung his legs out of bed (_cold, my feet are so cold, my toes will fall off_) and padded lightly over to the windows, seizing one of the curtain ties. He walked to the wardrobe and proceeded to tie the knobs of the doors to each other to keep the damn thing closed.

_Why was their cold air pouring out of it?_

Deciding that he didn't actually want to know, he tied it tight and moved back to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and pausing to rub his eyes. That feeling of foreboding was back, and he could feel it in his stomach now. For one frantic moment, he thought of going and waking that soldier, Basch fon Something-or-other.

That thought left his mind immediately when clammy hands shot out from under the bed and clamped around Balthier's ankles.

He started to scream, but it pulled his legs, hard, casing him to fall flat on his face. Blood spurted from his nose and he gurgled on it as it ran back through his throat, and those hands started to pull him.

He thrashed, wrenching his body around and screaming in pure horror.

A white haired _thing _grinned at him, it's teeth caked with strange green moss, and it reeked, oh god, it reeked of death.

"_Mine_," it gurgled.

Balthier shrieked again, his nails leaving deep gouges in the wood planked floor where he tried desperately to hold on.

"_STAY AWAY FROM HER,_" it roared, and Balthier nearly fainted then, but he kicked hard, he fought unconsciousness, knowing that if he was pulled under, he would never get out.

"_Mine mine mine mine she is mine._"

And then, Fran was pulling him up and he collapsed against her, sobbing, bleeding and screaming.


End file.
